I’ve been told I’m hard to shop for — I can’t imagine why. I’m a simple creature, really: devoted, dexterous, disturbingly debonair. I’ve never been accused of being demanding, but I suppose you could say I’m generous to a fault. I applaud Wednesday’s victories, dry Enid’s many tears, and have picked more locks for the Addams family than a professional cat burglar. Perhaps I make it all look too easy, although it’s anything but. I’ve been stabbed, dropped from great heights, and have endured more drafts of a teenager’s unpublished novel than any sentient being should in a lifetime. And yet, another birthday has passed unacknowledged. Not even a cupcake.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Wednesday has never been one to indulge in sentimentality. I suppose I expect those I love to read my mind — tragically, the one power no one in this family possesses. So, in the spirit of “putting it out into the universe,” I’ve curated a birthday wishlist.

To accompany each coveted item, I’ve agreed — after much resistance — to an editorial photo shoot. (I’ve been told portraits of feet can be quite lucrative in some forsaken corners of the internet, but the fairer appendage commands a higher aesthetic standard.) Feast your eyes, and if you’re seeing this, Wednesday, do take the hint. The hand giveth, yes; but it’s time I took back.

And please, no socks.

A timepiece

Analog, not digital. This accessory reminds the world that I may not have a face, but I do have places to be. And people to strangle. Timelessly.

A signature scent

Do I have a pulse? Ask my taxidermist. However, I do have a pulse point, which is the perfect place to mist my ideal fragrance: mossy and complex, with just a hint of crematorium ash.

A lighter

I don’t smoke — it wreaks havoc on the epidermis. Nevertheless, a gentleman always carries fire. For candles, funeral pyres, sticks of dynamite. Besides, it’s always fun to play with fire.

Power tools

I’m quite the handyman. Especially when one must eliminate evidence (or witnesses), or take a clever shortcut through a hedge maze.

A cocktail set

A well-mixed drink is the least I deserve after a day spent catching daggers and defusing teen drama. Cheers to me.

Exercise equipment

Strength is silent, but my grip speaks volumes. The secret? Resistance training, one finger at a time.

An umbrella

Rain. Snow. Hormonal teenage outbursts. It’s always wise to weatherproof. Also doubles as transportation on a windy day … or as an implement with which to gouge eyes.